


hurts like hell

by ApinchofWinwin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Discrimination, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, red eyed and red haired taeyong, underground crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApinchofWinwin/pseuds/ApinchofWinwin
Summary: The time he realizes what he is looking for, Taeyong loses everything and it hurts like hell.





	hurts like hell

**Author's Note:**

> i was a slave to this fanfic for so long and i finally finished it. I'm sorry if there's grammar mistakes and if the plot doesn't make sense but i really just wanted this idea out of my head. if you can't tell by the title and tags, its a sad story so read at your own risk.  
> inspired by the song: hurts like hell by fleurie  
> idea also inspired off of taeyong's red hair in NCT U BDS

The loud shots fill the warehouse along with the helpless cries and the dying groans that soon fell silent. The gun is quickly hidden away again under his jacket. He kicks the body that was in front of him to the side and grimaces at the sight of blood on his new leather shoes. He takes out a crimson silk handkerchief from his suit pocket and bends down to wipe the dirty liquid. The male folds back the cloth and puts it away. There isn’t a change of facial expression since the time he walked into the building till now. Taking one last glance at the bodies, he gradually finds himself driving and the reason for the smell of oil and fire is a blur. The sirens of the passing firetrucks and police cars passing doesn’t make the other blink. He steps on the gas pedal, the familiar numbness of his body spreading from head to toe. The car pulls up behind the tallest building on the street, the glass skyscraper intimidating the smaller ones around them. It’s the most powerful, who doesn’t need words to prove anything.

He gets out of the vehicle and the slamming of the door echoes between the walls of the buildings. There’s a man, suited in an all black outfit, standing outside of the door. One look and the guard opens the door for the other. He gives a curt nod in response. The black-haired male walks down to the end of the white hallway and stands in front of the elevator. His right foot taps impatiently against the tile floor. A ding sounded, and he slips in, the door closing just as fast as it opened. The shaft passes the basement and reaches the only location that is available. He steps out of the shaft and the black hallway embraces him. The haze becomes stronger with each step, but he doesn’t hesitate and confidently walks forward. His feet face the black oak tree door, plain yet scary for those who knew what was behind it. He wasn’t scared anymore. His fist knocks against the surface before twisting the doorknob to let himself in.

“I finished the job,” he reports, voice devoid of emotion or interest. He just wants some rest, the less time this takes the better.

The well-built male sitting behind the desk only smirks at the other. “Good job, Taeyong. Fast like always, I didn’t expect anything less from my favorite.” Taeyong doesn’t respond back and waits for the man to dismiss him. The older chuckles. “Did you want to finish the job that badly?”

“Yunho hyung, I finished the job and that’s what is important,” Taeyong pointedly says. Of course, only he could act like this towards Yunho since he is indeed the “favorite.” He knew, however, where he shouldn’t push his luck.

Yunho gives a hearty laugh, the one that his victims feared while Taeyong found annoying. “Before you go back, you should buy new cologne.” He holds a hand under his nose and frowns. “That smell is not one my little _demon_ should be wearing out.” The nickname is said with a voice dripping with adoration, Taeyong’s stomach twists.

Taeyong takes a sniff of the sleeve of his dress jacket. He groans. Burning flesh isn’t everyone’s favorite. He nods and turns his body out the door. “Oh, Taeyong.” He looks at his leader again, wondering what else he had to say. “Remember to wear your hat.”

 

He adjusts the hat so that it fit completely around his head and rim as low as possible. His head low, he only takes occasional peaks to know where he is going. He hears the occasional whispers and gossips. Even when he is covered, he garners attention—and he hates it. He finds the department store he was looking for and heads in, not sparing a glance at the worker who greeted him. He quickly finds the cologne isle and scans through the multiple bottles to find the one he had before. If only he remembered what the name was, knowing how the bottle is shaped isn’t helpful right now. His foot begins to tap and he is becoming more and more frustrated with himself. He doesn’t have the time and energy to open every box and check if it was what he was looking for.

“Excuse me sir, do you need any help today?” Taeyong senses the presence next to him but doesn’t dare to look up and keeps his head low. The voice sounds accented, probably a foreigner.

“No, I’m okay. I’m just looking.” He waves his hands, hoping the other would get the message and quickly leave.

There’s a pause and Taeyong doesn’t see the other budging. “I don’t mean to be rude sir, but are you sure there isn’t anything you need help with? _You’ve been standing there for ten minutes straight_.” Taeyong hears the other mumble the last part softly, probably thinking he wouldn’t be able to make out what he was saying with how soft and accented his Korean was. Instead of being angry, Taeyong bites the bottom of his lips and decides it’s better to ask for the other for help, so he can buy the damn cologne and leave.

“I’m actually looking for a certain cologne, but I don’t know what the name is. I just know how the bottle is shaped.”

“I could help you with that!” Taeyong doesn’t have to look up to know the other was probably smiling, maybe happy that he was right. “If you can describe how the bottle looks like, maybe I can deduct which one it is.”

Taeyong begins to describe the shape, talking about the details on the cap and the overall tall boxy shape of the body. The worker squats down and Taeyong, who’s vision happens to be at the same level, takes in the appearance of the boy. He seems young, probably around Taeyong’s age but definitely a few years younger than him. His long limbs filling out the tacky uniform tells him the latter must be tall, maybe model-like. Judging from his side profile, the unstyled dirty blonde hair makes his facial features seem more angelic rather than fierce. It makes Taeyong chuckle to himself and he doesn’t realize that the other had already found what he was looking for. The moment their gaze lock, Taeyong feels his whole body freeze. He quickly moves his head to the side and prays that the shadow created by his hat didn’t allow him to see anything.

“Here you go, sir,” the worker hands him the item which he takes hastily. “Please double-check the item just in case.”

Taeyong opens the box and takes a glance. “Yeah this is it. Thank you.” He turns to leave but is halted by the same voice.

“I could ring you up over here if you want!” No, I don’t want you to, Taeyong wants to say but he finds himself following the other. The worker scans the item and while he bags the item, Taeyong manages to take a glance the employee’s name tag. _Winwin_. What a strange name to match an overly enthusiastic worker. “That’ll be 28,000 won.”

Taeyong takes out his wallet and pulls out the exact amount. He takes the bag from the counter and ready to leave as soon as the other passes him the receipt. Time felt long when Taeyong only wanted to get out of there. “Here’s your receipt,” Taeyong reaches to grab the paper. “Why do you wear a hat when your eyes are so pretty?”

The male freezes and shifts his head slightly up to see the expression of the other. No traces of sarcasm, teasing, or hatred. Instead, on the worker’s face was a pair of eyes full of curiosity and held no bad intent that it makes Taeyong feel uncomfortable. His heart shouldn’t be beating like this, his heart never does when he lifts his gun to someone’s head. So, he doesn’t answer the question and quickly takes the receipt before dashing out without a word. His head hung low the whole time till he reaches his car.

 

He hears the whispers again. The same laughter follows it, making his eyebrows furrows. He groans loudly. “Look at him,” he hears them say. “Look at his eyes.” Taeyong tries to look at where the voices are coming from but there’s only the pitch blackness that is accompanying him. “He’s a demon spawn. One look from him and you’re dead.”

“I’m not a demon,” he mutters, having his hands cover both sides of his ears. “I’m not a demon.”

Then, he hears a familiar hush and his hands fall to his side. It’s the soothing kind that can only come from a loved one. “Mom?”

“It’s okay, don’t cry,” her voice brings shivers down his spine. He missed this voice so much. The tone that cared for him with no exceptions. “Our Yongie’s eyes are beautiful, they’re shining rubies.”

He tries to search for his mother, running among the blackness in hopes of finding the light. Then, there was a crash.

“You piece of trash.” The rough masculine tone makes Taeyong’s body shake. “All you do is bring bad luck with those damn bloody eyes.” There’s another loud crash that echoes. Another empty beer bottle thrown against the wall –Taeyong wished he never remembered the sound of it. “Your own god damn mother can’t even bring me a normal child and brings me a child from hell.” His legs give up beneath him and he pulls his shaking knees towards his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and yells for the voice to stop. He pulls his hair, his black hair that was dyed to hide away the color that matched his eyes. Suddenly, there is a tightness squeezing his neck and he gasps.

Staring down at him, he sees his tired mother. Her eyes are blood shot red due to the lack of sleep and crying. Accompanying them were dark eye bags that puffed out, making her look older despite being only in her mid-30s. Her hair is in disarray, not in the usual bun, and sleeping gown still on. Taeyong tries to call out for his mother but the lack of air traveling down his throat makes him realize the blackness in her eyes. His small hands come up to grasp onto the female’s hands on his throat. He tries to squirm for release, but her iron grip won’t let go. His eyes pleaded but the ruby eyes that his mother used to love were now bloody and hideous. She couldn’t go forward anymore.

“I-I just want happiness,” he hears her mutter. “Why can’t I be happy? Why, why did you have to born?”

The question that he always wondered but never said aloud and the person that finally says it is his mother. If he weren’t already struggling to breath, he would’ve laughed. He gave one last look at the woman who once loved him and cradled him asleep. The woman was long dead and so was he. Shutting his eyes, he takes a deep breath before holding it. A few seconds pass, he feels the grip around his throat loosen and the dip of his bed lifted. The deep breathing from the female calms and he hears the shuffle of her feet exiting his door. Once he hears the door shut closed, he takes a peek and then slips out of the covers. The nine-year-old child doesn’t know what to take. So, he grabs his Pokémon backpack and his favorite stuff bear. He was lucky that his house was only one story. His heart continues to pound against his small frame as he carefully pushes the window open. He climbs up and jumps down to have his shoes meet the wet grass of his front lawn. He darts as soon as he hears the faint sound of yelling. Without knowing where he would go or who he should go to, his short limbs kept going. He looks over his shoulder to take one last glance at what he used to call home.

It was cold that night. Yet, he doesn’t remember anything but the hot and angry throbbing in his chest and the hot tears that slid down his face making his face stiff when it dried. He also remembers how he met Yunho when he was hiding between a trashcan and a stack of cardboard boxes. The older wore a black suit and his intimidating aura still the same. Taeyong doesn’t know why he didn’t feel as scared as he was supposed to be. The moment he met the gaze of the older, he felt he could belong somewhere – a place where there were people that didn’t belong to society like him. A place where there were people who didn’t receive the love they wanted. A place where everyone just wanted them dead. As soon as he took that hand, there was no going back. He didn’t have anything to go back to anyways.

 

“If you need anything else, I’ll be downstairs!” the cheerful landlord said before closing the front door of the apartment behind him.

Taeyong sighs and observes the plain layout around him. The apartment was equipped with the bare minimum for a typical college student. He guessed that was what Yunho wanted it to be. He pulls his luggage across the floor and throws it onto his bed. Unzipping the item, he unpacks the few things he brought with him. A folder is laid neatly on top of the other items. He reaches for it and opens the item for the first time since he was given it. There’s papers with profiles and statistics of multiple males, information about the location, and an ID. He holds the small ID in his hand and stares at the image of himself, eyes and hair photoshopped in order to make him look “normal.” The slight traces of red colored into the dark brown and his patch of red roots peaking through was colored in black. _Korea University_. He would never have thought he would be assigned to scout for new members in a university. He shakes his hood. What was Yunho hyung thinking?

 

He walks by the fields, the scent of wet dirt and sweat blowing through the air. Its sunny and the overbearing brightness makes him squint. He wants to rub his eyes, but I remembered the damn contacts in his eyes and retracts his hand. He places his hand over his eyes as a form of cover while he examines one of the potential candidates on his list.

Nakamato Yuta. Japanese. Age 20. Exchange student from Osaka. Star player of the soccer team.

Taeyong watches the small figure run across the fields, limbs naturally moving along without any sign of exhaustion despite the weather. He’s got the stamina. His built isn’t bulky but lean with muscles all around, and his agility, Taeyong can predict, being his main asset. The male doesn’t stay too long and moves on. He readjusts the strap of his messenger bag and walks into a building that held club activities. Instead of looking at the map in his hand, he followed to sound of the thumping of music. He enters the room and there’s already members inside stretching. No one seems to be looking at him and Taeyong stands against the wall, looking around to see who he should talk to.

“Hi, are you new here?”

He turns to come face to face with a male around his height but slightly shorter. He’s handsome and his aura boasts confidence and mischief that Taeyong finds all too familiar with the people he is usually surrounded with.

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul. Also known as Ten. Thai. Age 19. Dancer. Psychology Major.

With his personality and knowledge, he’s able to gain the trust of others easily and bend their beliefs. A candidate with high potential, Taeyong concluded.

He smiles at the other. “Yes, my name is Taeyong, nice to meet you!” he replies. He sticks his hand out offering a handshake which was happily accepted by the other. Ten shows him around and registers him for the club. Taeyong thinks everything is going as planned, though a bit too smoothly for his taste.

Taeyong observes Ten as he takes a glance at his black watch. He gives a questioning look. “Is something wrong?”

Ten shakes his head. “I’m just checking what time we need to head out. There’s another club that uses this dance room after us today.”

“Oh, which club?”

“The Chinese Traditional Dance Club. They have a performance coming up, so they’ve been trying to use the dance room as much as possible.” Taeyong nod along. The club door opens and a group shuffles, Taeyong concludes that it was that said club. He bends down to retrieve his bag laying against the mirror. He watches from the reflection of the mirror, Ten greeting his friend near the door. His friend was tall and slender, his limbs seemingly perfect for dancing. He could imagine how elegant and refined his lines were with every pose and move the other would do. There was a sense of odd familiarity though, making Taeyong throw on his black hat and tug the tip more down. He walks towards the door, making the other’s voice sound clearer.

“We are getting better but not perfect yet,” Taeyong hears the other report about his club’s performance status. The deep voice and accented Korean, Taeyong almost thought he was being set up. Winwin. The annoying cashier he met before. He tilts his head down further and had his gaze looking at the ground. He’ll just silently step out, no one will notice.

“Taeyong hyung!” The male inwardly cursed and slowly turns to meet his undeniable fate. He feels Ten’s arm wrap around his shoulder and pushing him to the boy. Taeyong wasn’t scared of anyone. The years of being part of the organization, it’s hardened his heart. He could face men who are three times bigger than him and not even bat an eye. But, here he was, inwardly shaking because he didn’t want to meet this male, who was thin as a stick and probably would snap if he even touched him. “Since I know you’re new, I’m sure you don’t know a lot people. Why not meet a few of my friends?”

Taeyong feels the other’s stare drilling through his hat. The younger male probably recognized him too.

“Winwin, this is Taeyong. Taeyong, this is Winwin. He’s the president of the club I was telling you about!”

Taeyong inhales a deep breath and looks up before he loses all his courage. He meets the other’s curious gaze. He watches the male’s eyes gradually widen and his mouth open slightly in awe. It’s somewhat cute, but he keeps it to himself. His fingers play with the end of his shirt as he breathes out a quiet introduction. Winwin’s shocked expression turn into a shy smile before introducing himself back. Taeyong doesn’t know why he was expecting for the other to mention the lack of crimson in his eyes. In the past five minutes talking, there was no mention about it – Taeyong thinks it’s because Ten was present – and Taeyong bid his goodbye along with Ten as the next practice continued.

Taeyong had easily entered Ten’s friend circle, but he might as well have fallen in a trap.

 

Taeyong doesn’t know why Winwin never talks about his eyes. Even when it was just the two of them, he said nothing. As the semester progressed, Taeyong became less nervous around the other. He learns more about the foreigner and finds himself being closer to him than his targets. Taeyong doesn’t know if it’s because of how innocent he looked or how pure he actually is. The flustered expression and immediate denial that follows make Taeyong smile at the memory.

A chick. A small tiny chick. That was what the Chinese reminded Taeyong of.

Small and pure.

No matter how much his stomach knotted when watching the charming smiles play on Winwin’s face and the way his heart hurt against his chest, he can’t touch him.

Taeyong looks at his hands. He can’t touch Winwin. He won’t get him dirty.

 

They were drinking. It was a long day of studying and practicing. Taeyong finds himself in Winwin’s apartment that he shared with Yuta. The other foreigner happened to be out of town because of a soccer match in another district. It’s been a while since the two hung out together. Taeyong deducted that the other was avoiding him (he tried to think of what he might’ve done to get the other mad but ended at a dead end). The sudden text was a surprise but a good one Taeyong would admit. Winwin was sitting on the couch, slouching slightly at he rested his chin in his palm. Taeyong sat on the floor in front of the other, his legs spread out across the white sheepskin rug.

“Taeyong hyung,” the Chinese calls out, his voice sounding slightly more higher pitch than usual. He drank a whole bottle already.

“Yes?” Taeyong looks at him expectantly. He drank half a bottle only.

Winwin brings a finger up and points at the male sitting on the floor. He squints his eyes in a cute teasing manner with a grin. “Your eyes are so pretty, you know.”

Taeyong freezes. He swallows a lump down his throat. He was probably only talking about the shape.

“Red like cherries,” Winwin giggles. The alcohol still apparent in the younger’s system, while Taeyong sobered up instantly. Taeyong remains silent, unsure how to respond to this situation. “When I first met you, I thought you were weird. You wore that same black hat and only looked at the floor,” another giggle follows and then a sigh. “When you ran away as soon as I mentioned your eyes, I thought I said something wrong… I’m sorry.”

Taeyong slowly shakes his head. It wasn’t his fault for the color of his eyes. “No, it’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not okay!” Winwin’s sudden outburst startles Taeyong. “Why are you always so nice to me?! Why do you not get angry when I do something wrong!?”

A wrinkle forms along Taeyong’s forehead. “Winwin—”

“Hyung,” the other breathes out. He gets up from his spot and makes his way towards Taeyong’s spot. His legs were heavy, but he manages to sit in front of the other, right in between the other’s legs. “I like you.”

 _No_. That’s all Taeyong could think of. _Impossible_. No one could love him.

“Y-you’re drunk,” Taeyong whispers out. He wants to blame the alcohol but all at the same time, he doesn’t want it to be true. The clenching at his heart hurts more than he is used to.

A pout forms on the other’s plump lips and Taeyong restrains himself from tugging the other in close for a hug. “I’m perfectly fine!” he argues. Suddenly, he takes Taeyong’s hand into his and brings it up to his chest. Shocked, Taeyong immediately tries to withdraw his hand from the other’s chest but was met with surprising force. He looks at the other’s eyes that was filled with determination, replacing the haze that occupied it previously. “Do you feel it?”

Taeyong first feels the overwhelming warmth from the other’s body. The warmth spread from his palm to fingertips. Then he feels a beat vibrating against his hand. It’s beating fast and loud against his skin, and Taeyong takes a second to think maybe it was just his heart instead. He locks eyes with the chocolate brown orbs and for the first time, a shiver goes down his spine.

He opens his mouth to respond but only a shaky breath comes out. The determination and resolve glazed in the other’s eyes make him want to run away. Lie. He told himself. Deny it. His brain yells at him. Yet, here he sat, tongue-tied and slowly falling into the trap laid by Winwin. He watches as Winwin closes the space between them and touches his forehead with his. Their warm breathes kissing their faces and eyes closed. They listen to the rhythm of their breaths and heart beat pounding with their blood.

“Hyung,” Winwin whispers, “do you like me?”

Their gazes on each other again, but this time only mere centimeters apart. Taeyong looks at the male in front of him. Pure and perfect. He looks over the fine features displayed on the other’s face. The clear almond shaped eyes and cute high nose. Full lips that were easily tempting and kissable and even more so when pursed.

 _Run_. His annoying conscious screams at him. There was no point.

He closes the space between them and feels the softness of the other’s lips against his. It was met with a surprised gasp but the other quickly recovered, Taeyong noticed, and quickly responded to the kiss. He smiles in the kiss and Taeyong feels an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest and stomach that he never felt for years.

He was destined for hell, so damn everything.

 

He groans. It’s getting too hot; he kicks off the covers. Turning, he’s looking for a sense of comfort. Then, he feels a hand squeezing his shoulder and a hushed voice calling for him.

“Taeyong hyung,” it was quiet, yet he could hear the concern dripping in the voice. “Taeyong hyung, wake up.”

His eyes open wide and his throat chokes, wheezing and yearning for air. He had shot up from the bed and he could feel to front of his shirt sticking to the skin of his chest from the sweat. Even with the darkness enveloping them, his eyes already adjusted to be able to see the worried expression of his lover.

“You were having a bad dream again.”

Taeyong groans and runs his hand through his bed hair. “I’m sorry Winwinnie.”

The younger laces his hand with the other even if its slight sweaty from earlier. He presses the top of hand against his cheek. “I told you already,” he brushes a kiss on top of the skin, “there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Nightmares were a normal occurrence, which Winwin learned to know after a few weeks of “moving” into Taeyong’s apartment (there was no actual move in but the extra toothbrush in the bathroom and sets of clothes made it seem that way). Initally, he didn’t ask Taeyong about what his dreams were about. It was only after a few more times, he had carefully brought up the taboo topic in the morning following. Taeyong tells him about his childhood but refrains from mentioning his occupation.

Taeyong gazes at his lover, eyes pouring with love and gratitude that even the darkness couldn’t cover it up. They slowly lay back into bed together, Taeyong wrapped into a warming embrace. He wraps his arms around the other’s thin waist and pulls his face against Winwin's chest. He listens to the calming breath of the other and breathes in the sweet scent soaked into the other’s clothes – the mix of honey and Febreze (his own fault for the last scent). He feels long fingers combing through his hair just the way it always did the past times. He sighs deeply. He feels the weight lifting and his body floating on a cloud.

Only Winwin could make him feel this way.

 

Moans echo through the thin walls and Taeyong could only hope his neighbors were too deep in their slumber to wake up. He takes a quick breath before his mouth is covered with another. Their tongues tangle and battle for dominance as if they hadn’t done that same thing just seconds ago. Taeyong’s hand falls to grasp the waist of the other who is sitting on top of him. Moments like these, he wants to sit still and marvel at the beauty of his lover, trying to understand how such innocent features can portray such a sultry look. Trying to understand how he was allowed to see a beauty defenseless and bare. How he was even allowed to touch him the way no one else could. How he was allowed to love him.

His thoughts are always stopped by the slight touches and movements of the other that reminds Taeyong of how real everything is. The other continues to rock against him and throws his head back, revealing his slender column of his neck defenseless against the the red-hair's kisses. Taeyong moves his hips to meet Winwin's, earning a louder moan from the other and grunt from himself. He hears the other gasp his name, half moan half breath. It makes Taeyong go crazier and everything becomes hotter and hazier. He calls for Winwin’s name and everything comes undone.

The two lay in their bed, limbs wrapped around each other and breathes slowly stabilizing. They take in the moment of bliss as they stare at each other. They’ve had moments like this multiple times, but the same thoughts always reoccur in Taeyong’s mind. The way his heart pounding is always more noticeable when he is with Winwin, making him remember that he is still human. When he feels the warmness and tug in his chest, he realizes again that he is capable of loving someone. He looks at the way Winwin gazes at him with the matching love that he has for him. His brown orbs not even steering clear from the crimson color of his eyes that reminded everyone else of blood. He loved what everyone and Taeyong hated. And it makes Taeyong want to cry. He wants to cry because he doesn’t know if he deserves this love. He wants to cry because he knew he didn’t deserve Winwin.

He’s selfish, he knows that. He’s selfish for keeping such a gorgeous and pure man to himself and not letting him branch out to someone better than himself. He knows. But, it’s because he’s selfish that he doesn’t care anymore.

 

“You still want to remain in school?”

Taeyong presses his lip into a thin line and tries to keep his eyes looking as determined as possible. “Yes,” he says with a resolute tone. “I feel that there are more potential candidates in the university that I could possibly scout.” It’s a lie. The three recruits he brought were the best ones he could get, and one of them was not even on the list given to him previously. But, he needed to keep seeing Winwin. He hopes his reason is persuasive enough, after all, he is focusing on the well-being of the organization.

Initially there is a bewildered expression from the older, but it was replaced with a smile that sent slight shivers down Taeyong’s spine. “You really are my best principle in the end, huh? Still wanting to find better recruits for our organization, you _little devil_. Okay, you could stay in the university longer.”

Taeyong fist pumps inside his head and the tension built in his body releases. He nods and bows while thanking the other. With everything he wanted to say and given his new missions, Taeyong walks to exit the room. He has his grip on the door handle when Yunho calls out for him again. He turns questionably at the other.

“Don’t get soft, Taeyong,” the leader says in a pointed tone that makes Taeyong tense. He gulps and curtly nods before exiting.

It wasn’t a reminder, but a warning that floated over his head.

 

Taeyong didn’t tell Winwin about his occupation because there was a strange understanding of what his job held. The night Taeyong came back home at 3 AM from his mission, he walked into their (or his) apartment and expected his boyfriend to be in bed, like he usually was. He didn’t bother to switch out of his shirt that held small blood stains at the bottom of the fabric. His laziness bit him back when he found his boyfriend standing in the hallway with a gun in his hand. The floor was wet with water sprayed at the floor and cup next to it. The small table stand he placed in the hallway was shifted forward and it only took a matter of seconds for Taeyong to connect the possibility that Winwin had accidentally walked into the table while walking back to their room with a cup of water. Taeyong had hid a gun behind the table for safety measures, but, maybe hiding the gun was the most dangerous thing Taeyong could’ve done. Winwin’s blonde hair was still in disarray from sleeping earlier, however, the moment Taeyong’s eyes met his, there was no sign of drowsiness. Taeyong was surprised at first by the lack of confusion in the other’s eyes. There were no rapid-fire questions that came out of the other’s mouth. Instead, there was only acceptance—he saw a flash of disappointment, but it disappeared too fast that Taeyong thought he was imagining it. Taeyong tried to open his mouth to say something. Nothing came out though and his mouth hung, looking like a baby caught sticking his hand in a cookie jar.

“Welcome back,” Winwin said, his voice soft yet poured with sincerity. “You must’ve had a long night.”

Taeyong stared at the other in complete shock. He did not expect such a reaction. He expected demands of explanations and possibly a break-up. He felt his body shaking and he tried to restrain himself. His eyes began to burn, and he knows its not because of the contacts he had to put back on when he finished his job. He bites his bottom lip and nods.

“Go wash up,” the blonde placed the gun gently on top of the table. “Are you hungry?”

Taeyong shook his head.

“Then I guess I won’t need to heat anything up,” there was a small playful smile on his lips and Taeyong couldn’t believe he was still allowed to be the one at the receiving end of it. “Hurry and wash up. I just need to clean this mess up really quick.” Taeyong watched his back disappear into the kitchen. His feet dragged him slowly into the bathroom and he ripped off the dirty clothing from his body. His skin came in contact with the warm water, however, he couldn’t release a sigh because his mind is scattered. Instead of enjoying the warmth of the water enveloping him, Taeyong quickly finished his shower and threw over his pajamas. He walked into the bedroom to find the other lying down peacefully asleep. Carefully, he made his way to his side of bed and pulled the covers over him. He took time to contemplate for a second before wrapping his hands on the other’s waist and pulling him into a hug. He heard a silent chuckle and the body turned to face him. Soft hands caressed his face and Taeyong looked into the other’s eyes, searching for fear or doubt. There was none.

“You shouldn’t sleep with your hair wet.” The irony of the younger nagging at him made Taeyong smile. “You’ll get sick.”

Taeyong didn't say anything and leaned in to press a light kiss on the other’s lips. He continued to press more until the other told him to stop, not without a few giggles in between. The Chinese sighed in defeat. His gaze then shifted and Taeyong could only wait for what to happen next.

“I love you, you know that?”

Taeyong’s heart jumped and he wanted to scream. He really didn’t deserve this. It was normal for everyone to turn his back towards him. Because he didn’t deserve love. He accepted it. When he met Winwin, the thought of Winwin leaving him was always in the back of his mind. This was his reality. So, why? Why wasn’t Winwin leaving him right now?

“I-I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. Tears were threatening his eyes and he swallowed a lump down his throat.

“You’re wrong. You deserve all the love in the world,” Winwin gently wiped the fresh tears sneaking their way down Taeyong's face. “But are you willing to only have me?”

The tears were now streaming down his face and Taeyong never felt so vulnerable before. Vulnerable but loved.

“I love you,” Taeyong confessed to Winwin. His first time saying those three words, scared before by the weight the words held. He was no longer scared anymore. They slept with their arms wrapped around each other and wake up in the morning the same.

 

Everything was becoming a routine for Taeyong and Winwin. Wake up. Go to school. Study/Work. Eat. Shower. Sleep. There was barely any change and yet Taeyong doesn’t think about changing it. He feels his body and mood becoming lighter every time he wakes up (Winwin likes to tell him its because he sees his own beautiful face the first thing in the morning). There are times when there is a day off and the two likes to lay in their beds past noon cuddling and whispering to each other. Moments like these made it felt as if time was endless and there was nothing in the world that could break them.

There was something though and Taeyong had forgotten it’s presence.

 

Taeyong receives a text message while he was walking to his car. It was Yunho.

_I always told you weakness is the ultimate downfall._

Taeyong slowly feels his world shattering before him. He bolts to his car and drives dangerously fast back home. The car door slams loudly shut as he runs to the entrance. He doesn’t even glance at the elevator and heads straight to the staircase. Climbing five flights of stairs, he quickly finds himself standing in front of his apartment door. He doesn’t bother to take his keys out to unlock the door because he knows its unlocked. He pushes the door open and nothing is out of place. Nothing was touched and destroyed.

“Winwin,” he calls out, it comes out airy and shaky. “Winwin.”

No answer. He walks to their bedroom. He stands at the foot of the bed and he begins to sob.

The world was always so cruel to him.

Dressed in his silky white pajamas, it would look as if Winwin was still sleeping. The pool of red coloring his chest spoke otherwise as it hid behind the white Columbines laid neatly on his chest and in his hands. The flowers were mocking him but his heart was only breaking. Taeyong crawls onto the bed and cradles the other’s head in his lap. He cries, caressing the cold skin of Winwin’s face against his palms. Taeyong calls his name as if hoping it would wake the other up. He gives sad kisses onto the face that he loved waking up to each morning. He remembers the way Winwin smiled at him this morning, the feeling of his lips over his, and the warm embrace when he left. All of it was gone now. Taeyong can never experience it again. He cries harder now.

No one. There was no one beside him now. He was alone in this cold world once again.

 

Days passed, and his old lifestyle replaced what he had just gotten used to. He resigned from college and he resumed back to training during most of the day. However, he remains to live in the apartment. After a night of missions, he goes back to the same home. There isn’t someone who would welcome him back anymore, no smile to make his days brighter, no warm body to cuddle with in the coldness of his bed. He sleeps on the sofa now. The bed makes him feel lonelier.

Everything hurts like hell.

Taeyong finds it hard to get up from bed and look at himself. He’s never felt so much pain before. He wants it to end. He wants everything to end.

He drives up to the usual alley and parks his car. Its late already, 2 AM in the morning and the streets almost deserted with only the few occasional cars driving by. There is a single man guarding the door, his head tilting forward and back with sleep creeping his conscious. His footsteps snap the other from his trance and the guard looks at him with eyes at first alert but then calmed when realizing it was just Taeyong. Taeyong walks closer to the door and slips his hand in the back of his pants. He places the head of the gun to the guard’s head and pulls the trigger. There is only a small click and the guard falls to the ground immediately, time not granting him to even cry out in pain. Taeyong keeps his gun in his hand and walks into the hallway, closing the door shut. He pulls his phone out, pressing some buttons before all the security cameras freeze. He walks the hallway with his expression blank and distant. He’s numb to the pain he’s been feeling after all these days.

So, he shoots anyone he sees with no hesitation. His accuracy showed the outcome of years of training and the silencer he stole a year ago was finally proving it’s worth. There are dead bodies lying along the hallway and Taeyong continues to walk forward. He finally reaches the door and stares at the black oak for a long minute. His hand is shaking, but not because of nervousness – it’s anger. He grips his gun and barges into the office. Immediately he shoots at the figure sitting behind the desk. There is endless firing until his barrel is empty. His chest rises and deflates with each heavy breath he breathes in. There’s blood splattered across the desk and papers laid on top of it. Yunho is bloodied with bullet wounds everywhere and a shot precisely on his forehead. His eyes are open, possibly stunned by the sudden attack. Taeyong thinks it’s because the older male never thought his most “loyal” pupil would ever turn his back on him. A wicked smile spreads on his lips and a laughter that sounded even foreign to him comes out from his throat. He drops his gun to the floor and runs his hands through his face. His job is almost complete. He exits the office and goes to his old room. Lugging out a container, he pours the liquid onto the floor. Inside his pocket, he pulls out a lighter and paper. The lighter sparks and creates a flame. He drops it onto the floor and starts to walk away. Once Taeyong reaches the entrance, he drags the dead guard into the building. He closes the door shut and locks it.

Soon, he drives away in his car and the smell of smoke is slowly building into the city air. Taeyong is tired now. There is nothing left for him to do. He continues to drive into the empty highway. All he sees are the street lights illuminating the streets and the sun peaking in on the horizon. He finds himself walking on grass with only a blank cloud hovering his mind. It’s when his feet stood in front of the grave stone did Taeyong realize he was just walking back _home_.

Dong Sicheng

October 23rd, 1997 – August 15th, 2022

A beloved son, friend, and lover

Taeyong’s knees go weak and he crumbles down to the wet grass. The dew is soaking into his pants, but it didn’t matter – nothing matters at this point. Tears falling down his face and his mind goes back to the happy memories of his lover that only brought him pain and longing. Taeyong wants to feel the same soft hands caressing his face and combing through his red locks as he slept on the other’s lap. He wants to hear the high-pitched laughter that was greatly mismatched with the other’s deep voice. He wants to hold his small face into his hands. He wants to kiss him. He wants to be with him.

He takes out the gun he got from the bottom seat of his car and holds the muzzle to his head. He pulls the trigger.

His body lies next to the stone and darkness takes over his mind.

He thinks he feels a hand combing through his hair. A small smile itches his face and he sleeps. 


End file.
